MEMOIRS OF A YOUNG NIGERIAN GIRL

Chronicles Of Osas IX

Oh shit, I think I made a wrong move. There was not a single response to my greeting, just eyes darting across each other sending hot red laser beams. Not knowing the next move to make, I tried as much as possible to avoid their piercing eyes and began playing with my fingers. Playing with my fingers is a habit of mine I exhibit whenever I'm nervous or clueless on what to do. I was letting my guard down, the temperature of my insides going slightly higher above room temperature. All the courage I mustered to go face them before entering the house was disappearing into the wind little by little. This is not at all nice, I thought. I needed to say something as fast as possible.

The heavens came to my aid almost immediately and my father took the initiative to break the cringy silence.
He asked, Martha, “do you know these people sitting down here", my father signalling to our visitors.

“Ehm, No sir", I replied still bemused.

“Are you sure", my father asked for the second time.

“Yes sir". I have not met them before.

Osas mum looked at me with all disgust in her demeanor and she scoffed and snorted, removing her face from my gaze.
I took the initiative to access my friend's mum.

Osas mum was beautiful, exuding elegance and old money. She was screaming generational wealth. From her black hair neatly braided in victorian style, her pearl jewelry costing several million naira to her designer shoe and handbag completing her corporate fitted double breasted black suit outfit. I mentally face palmed. I just hoped I had not invited trouble into my peaceful home because of my nosiness. The guy with Osas mum I could tell  was still new to the job and wet behind the ears.

Ok, my father continued, bringing me out of my thoughts.
So Martha, this lady came in here with this young man whom I hope is one of her employees inquiring about you and accused you that you are probably the major reason why her husband and her child whom I hope you are familiar with, Osas by name are being held by the government authorities because of the shenanigans she's claiming you instigated her child to perform.

So I dare you to explain these whole scenario to me now, my father looking at me sternly and his voice increasing an octave. Now, I could tell my father was angry.

My throat became dry and parched with my face steaming hot. I just knew I had to pick my choice of words carefully, explain the whole situation in such a way that I will  sound rational and unbiased, at the same time without mincing words.

“I'm listening Martha", my father said.

This was going to take a long while, so I grabbed a seat, positioned it at the centre of the four and sat down.

Okay, I said. Ready to take the bulls by the horn, I decided to explain my own side of the story and how everything got to where it is now.

I and Osas attend the same school. Our first encounter was in school and we bonded easily. Osas is a loving and smiling person and she looks so much like her mum and......

Hey little miss, Osas mum interrupted and looked at me with the same disgust in her face and disdain in her voice as earlier, “don't try to flatter me", she warned. “You are in no way enough to flatter me, you little witch", she cussed.

Mess up. I think I messed up, I thought feeling all shades of antsy.

“I won't have you stay in my presence and insult my daughter. I can put up with your lousy words, but don't you dare insult my child in front of me anymore, do you understand ma'am. Moreover you are in my house, my territory, and I lord over everything here, including you and whatever you hold dear reason because you are in my house, my space. My mother who has been quiet all these while stood up and retorted".

There was silence and a staring contest between the two mothers. Voila, and here comes trouble wearing danshiki strutting into my humble abode about to cause a ruckus and inhabiting its newly found space. She looked round the sitting room and laughed, a mocking laughter.

“Really, you lord over me because this is your space, your house, and what other english word did you use”, she said pointing her neatly manicured nails at my mum and batting her eyelids. This is the highest level of someone being delusional I have seen in a long while. “Ohh come of it, she said. You can't lord over me in this sitting room no bigger than my office".

I know, my mother replied with full confidence. “At least, I don't go about bringing my family's problem to other people's doorstep".

That statement was a huge blow to Osas mum's ego. Everything that boosted her self confidence in front of my mum was reduced to half. The scene was sharp and epic I'm not going to lie. This is my mum standing up to old money because of me and it was a win-lose situation and I took pride in it. No offense, I respect Osas mum but maximum respect should be given to whom its due.

At this point, my father knew he had to step in. He instructed my mother to sit and not say a word until I was done with my explanation and he reprimanded Osas mum, in the most polite way possible.

Martha, we all are listening to you. Tell us everything you know about all these, together with your involvement without mincing words. My father repeated for the umpteenth time.